


Midnight Blue

by bjorn_ironside



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Car Accidents, M/M, Naughty Ivar, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24372304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjorn_ironside/pseuds/bjorn_ironside
Summary: After a serious car accident, Ivar is tied to crutches and is therefore unable to go to school. His father provides him with a home teacher who is supposed to study with him until graduation. But among all the subjects Ivar also learns something else ...
Relationships: Heahmund & Ivar (Vikings), Heahmund/Ivar (Vikings)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 66





	1. The Teacher

**Author's Note:**

> I'll do my best at this modern AU and we'll see where it takes us! A really great pairing! 😊 Only a few chapters are planned, so I think it will be a short story.

"No, definitely not."

Ivar’s voice grew rougher, and he threw his fork next to the plate with a grumpy expression on his face. His big brother next to him didn't even flinch; he continued to devote himself to his food while Ivar looked at his father with incomprehension.

"You do. You will get a teacher as long as you can't go to school," Ragnar replied deeply; his eyes were fixed on his youngest son - unruly as always, Ivar snorted.

"I don't need a babysitter. I can learn alone,” he said softly and crossed his arms over his chest. Ragnar was about to say something when his mother spoke up.

"Ivar, honey, you know very well that you won't be able to keep up with the teaching material. So, please stick to your father. It's not forever, and he let a lot of relationships play.” Her voice was soft, and Ivar bit his lip hard.

He felt his anger rage in his stomach, wanted to get up, hit the table with his fists; but he knew that his legs would not take part in this at the moment. Not with these crutches, not with the firm straps and leather straps that occasionally restricted his jeans. He glared at his mother, but then nodded slightly.

"Nobody could have guessed that you would sit in front of a tree with Dad’s car." Bjorn, his eldest brother, whispered and laughed softly; however, he fell silent immediately when Ragnar gave him a deep, angry look. Ivar picked up his fork again and tried not to let his anger get too high on his brother - it was bad enough that he was tied to the crutches, which had been an improvement over the past few weeks when he had to sit in a wheelchair. Still, getting a teacher home was far worse than all of it.

He didn't like to be ordered around.

And certainly not by any fool his father had engaged in dealings. Bad enough.

Ivar could not sleep for a long time in the evening; he lay awake, rolling from side to side, staring at the bright streaks of light that the moon dropped through the window onto the carpet of his room.

Ivar had always been the most rebellious of his brothers: young and absolutely protected, especially preferred by his mother, he had grown up with the feeling of being somebody very special. His mother had always let him go through everything, much to the annoyance of his four brothers. Ivar had always enjoyed it, however, and the fact that a stupid little accident had almost destroyed his life kept him from sleeping at night.

Images of cracking metal were burned into his head, the smell of fire, and the panicked feeling of tightness when he couldn't get his legs off even though the car had already caught fire. Any help had come too late for one of his best friends: he was dead straight away, and the smell of burnt flesh burned Ivar’s nose every night.

For a quiet moment Ivar closed his eyes and listened to the sounds in the house; down in the kitchen he could hear a jingle as if someone was going to have a midnight snack. He was pretty sure that it was Hvitserk, who always had the same habit as Ivar: not being able to sleep at night because the head was so full of thoughts.

The next morning, Ivar had struggled to hoist himself to the table in the large office; his legs hurt especially today. The crutches annoyed him because he was still unable to strain his legs, yet alone move them properly. They just weren't wearing his body, so today he was in a particularly bad mood. He looked at the table in front of him, the large mahogany mountain of a table that his father had cost what-the-hell of money. There was a log on it, as well as various pens and books.

Geometry, stochastics, analysis. Mathematics - one of Ivar’s good subjects because he has always been able to think strategically. The devil knew why he was being taught these subjects today.

With a soft grumble, Ivar pushed his crutches away and made himself comfortable on the wonderfully upholstered chair; opposite him was an empty chair on which his tutor should sit.

Ivar rolled his eyes; he could already imagine this hypocrite waving his glasses and trying to teach Ivar the mostly simple formulas of mathematics.

The office door opened and his mother entered with a tray. On top of it were a carafe of water and two glasses, and a few cookies.

When she put the tray down, she put her hand on Ivar’s neck, although Ivar hissed slightly.

“He'll be nice, your father knows him from work. He is a good person; among other things he works in a church. It's only when you can't go to school, after all, you've been home for six months.” Her voice was soft and the pat on the back of his neck told him she was worried, so Ivar swallowed his condescending Comments down he liked to say about church.

Great, a Christian. It wasn't enough that his family consisted of believers, while Ivar had sworn off the church since childhood. His mother had only really believed since Ivar had survived his accident.

"It's good, mom. I'll see how I like it."

"Do it for the sake of me or your father. We only want the best for you. "

 _We only want the best for you! So that included putting him in a room with a damn priest and learning math with him._ _Wonderful._

A bell rang through the silence, and Aslaug turned away from her son and ran to the door; Ivar could hear her welcoming the man before. A deep, harsh voice returned the greeting gently, and Ivar rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Wow, this Christian would be kind of sick!

There was a moment and a few snippets of conversation between his mother and the man, in which Ivar straightened and waited in the chair; it was only after a while that the office door opened again and his mother entered, followed by a tall, dark-haired man who immediately captivated Ivar’s attention.

It was not as if he had expected anything definite: sure, for him priests wore their stupid robes and looked old and shriveled; but they were guaranteed not to wear leather jackets and looked as if they had just sprung from a top-class perfume advert. He was tall, the man - but the most striking thing was his crystal-clear blue eyes, which immediately turned to Ivar and were the same shade of blue as his own; the black hair went perfectly with it. He also had a three-day beard, which underlined his sympathy.

Even if he would never admit it.

"This is Ivar," said his mother, smiling, and the man grinned slightly; he held out his hand to Ivar, who took it slightly puzzled. He was still staring at him, and for a moment the priest had looked back.

"My name is Heahmund, nice to meet you," he said; Ivar nodded briefly, then forced himself to look at his mother, who was just brushing her hair behind her ear. How dumb it looks, Ivar thought - she never did that otherwise.

"You can feel completely at home, and if you need anything, just ask me. Or Ivar - that's not a problem."

"Thank you very much, Misses Lothbrok. But I'm sure Ivar and I will be fine for now. Thank you."

His voice, Ivar thought. His voice reminded him of something.

Aslaug smiled briefly, but then took a few uncertain steps out of the room and left Ivar alone with the man.

He went to the other side of the table, took off his leather jacket and then pushed back the chair to take a seat on it. Only then did he look up and looked at Ivar, who was still studying him.

"So, you are Ivar. Your father told me some of your story, but I'm sure we'll get you back on track. You're a year from graduation now, aren't you?"

Ivar took a moment to answer; first he moved a little closer to the table.

"Yes exactly. I am now 18 and will graduate next year. I am, well... unfortunately the accident pulled me back a bit."

"It doesn't matter, we'll get you back on the road. I think your father made me understand well that you weren't exactly stupid; he is sure that you will graduate next year. So - any questions before we start?"

Ivar grinned slightly, returning to the clear blue eyes.

"Yes - priest? Seriously?” He coughed a little, but Heahmund remained silent and continued to look at Ivar seriously.

"Well, not a priest - I'm a bishop of the Catholic Church. I don't know what's supposed to be so amusing about it. "

"You don't look like a damn prie- ehm, bishop," Ivar chuckled; he bit his lower lip a little harder when he saw a slightly piquant expression around Heahmund’s mouth.

"Damn it not at all - I guess you're not very much of a believer? Or too young to take it all seriously?” Heahmund replied, eyes still serious.

“How old does one have to be to be a believer? Or better: to take it seriously? Of course, I don't take anyone in a robe who tells of an invisible creature seriously. "

Heahmund raised an eyebrow; Ivar could see from the expression on his face that he probably would have preferred a model student and hadn't expected Ragnar's unruly sprout.

But he leaned back slightly and returned Ivar’s fiery look.

“Unbelief has something to do with immaturity; at least if you do speak badly of the religion of the other person sitting next to you. Listen, your father is as believing as your mother. It is not advisable to judge something directly as bad just because you believe in something else yourself. Whatever that may be."

"I definitely don't believe in a god," hissed Ivar; he adjusted his right leg under the table and nodded over to the books. "If you are a prie…- bishop, why do you know about stochastics?"

Heahmund’s mouth twitched slightly; Ivar could see that he had to hide a grin. Probably because he hadn't expected these answers. With so much resistance.

“Well, before I replaced my father as a bishop, I studied math and chemistry, alongside religion. I spent a lot of time in libraries. Not necessarily to teach naughty people like you, but I help where I can. So - let's start."

Ivar refrained from making another comment - he just grinned, but like Heahmund he just leaned down to the math books to discuss where to start.

When he finally bent over his first task after half an hour of discussion, he could feel the look of deep blue eyes on him, which looked at his fingers with every number he wrote down. And Ivar - he felt a slight tingling in the neck, so soft that he thought it came from the slightly opened window behind Heahmund’s back.


	2. The Book

_Ivar’s hands loosely gripped the steering wheel of the car; he had been safe in driving, has always been, even if he had only recently had his driver's license. Sven laughed next to him; he still had his cell phone in his hand._

_"Put that stupid thing away," Ivar grumbled; they were now driving on one of the country roads, a route that Ivar particularly liked. Driving the curves was fun._

_"It's okay, relax," replied Sven, grinning; with a slight wave of his hand he slid his cell phone into his pocket. "Your father allowed you to take the car?"_

_Ivar grinned broadly; his hand gripped the gear switch to shift up a gear and his foot pressed the accelerator more firmly._

_"Pretty much, yes," he said softly, and the smirking grin widened._

_"You stole it, I don't believe it!"_

_"What should he do ... He doesn't have time to get angry anyway. He will be at work with Bjorn, as always, as every day, with the other car.”_

_"Oh man ... Please keep me out of it if he catches you. I'm really scared of your father.” Sven leaned back in the seat and looked at the trees, which rushed past them faster and faster. Ivar hit the gas more._

_"My father is nobody to be feared. You should fear me. "_

_"You?"_

_The two boys laughed, even though Sven squeezed a little more into the seat as Ivar accelerated._

_"Don’t drive so fast."_

_"Only the next curve!"_

_"Ivar ..."_

_But Ivar didn't listen. He knew he always had the car under control, and the next corner was always the one that gave him the most thrill. Only a few more meters ..._

_"Watch out, damn it!" Sven suddenly screamed at the top of his throat, and Ivar's blood suddenly froze in his veins too - a truck came towards them and cut the curve ..._

_Ivar pressed hard on the brake pedal and tried to steer the car, but it broke sideways - and in those few seconds, Ivar lost complete control of the car, and in his shocked eyes a large tree came closer and closer._

_He didn't know how many eye blows and seconds it was to hit, he didn't even know if he was going to get it - because before the shattering crash of breaking metal his body passed out and everything went black._

_The smell of something sharp made Ivar's eyes blink at some point. For a moment he thought he was in bed, and yet - something had happened. Was it a nightmare?_

_He noticed that it wasn't a nightmare when he tried to move, but he couldn't do more than lift his head slightly. A reddish glow covered his vision, and it burned his eyes so much that Ivar narrowed his eyes again and moaned softly._

_Pain. In those seconds, a pain pierced his consciousness so hard he had never felt before. It ripped everything out of his thoughts, only made him feel the pain, and when he took a deep breath, he screamed. As loud as he could._

_Voices were in the distance, soft voices and bright lights, were they flashlights? He didn't know ... When he opened his eyes again and raised his head slightly, he turned slightly to the side, very slightly, only as far as the incredible pain allowed. But what he saw there made the blood freeze in his veins..._

_He closed his eyes as soon as he saw this terrible picture; but despite his closed eyes, the disturbing image had burned itself in so deeply that he would never get rid of it. Sven. His face. It had been completely destroyed on one side, pierced with metal, and Ivar felt his breath catch._

_The lights came back and the voices, but Ivar didn't want to hear anything. All he felt was pain and tightness and an inner panic that almost tore him apart ..._

Ivar woke up suddenly, drenched in sweat and trembling. For a moment he thought he would be back, but his body reacted quickly and calmed down. No, he was in bed, at home, safe and secure. Only a burning sensation in his legs told him that he had had another terrible dream about the day of the accident. It often happened that he dreamed of it - his therapist had said that this was the way of the body to actively process what he had experienced.

Ivar let out a soft sigh and reached for the glass that was always on his bedside table and held fresh water; when he took a sip, he felt better. He would never forget what his mother had said at the time: how they found him, the rescue workers. And miraculously he had survived.

"Shakespeare."

With an incredulous look, Ivar stared at the little book Heahmund had put in front of him; he let out a deep snort and leaned back in the chair.

"Yes, Shakespeare. You know that literature is on your plan. And since you are very good in science, we will focus on the subjects that you do not like as ... "

"... poems and shit?"

"Like unique works of art in literature, exactly, Ivar. Everyone knows them and every degree has at least one of these works in their exams.”

Ivar rolled his eyes and groaned in annoyance, but Heahmund just shook his head and sat in his place across from Ivar. He leaned back and looked at Ivar openly; Ivar returned his gaze and tried to put all his inner disgust at the subject in his eyes.

"You can look as annoyed as you want to, but you will learn this. You don't get through the exams with just science. "

"Yes, if I write an A + in all subjects," Ivar replied, but Heahmund shook his head.

"Not even you can do it. Your father attaches great importance to getting your degree well, and that is exactly what we will strive for."

With a piquant look, Ivar grasped the book with pointed fingers as if it were something dirty, and involuntarily he heard Heahmund laugh.

"You're impossible," he said with a chuckle, and Ivar couldn't help but put on a slight, hidden grin.

He opened the book and leafed through it a little, and his mood deteriorated with each page.

"That's bullshit. Who would find that good ... here- _If Love be blind, it best agrees with night_. Who likes that?”

“Can't you imagine the words? You don't have to see it as text, but as a painting.” Heahmund’s voice had become a little quieter, but sounded enthusiastic. Quite right for such a cleric, Ivar thought, staring at the letters on the paper.

"I don't even understand what he's trying to say. Why should someone prefer love at night?” snorted Ivar; his fingers moved over the next few pages and the blue eyes narrowed.

"You know, Ivar - love is very complex, and since this quote comes from Romeo and Juliet, you will surely understand why love - especially blind ones - should be done at night. You know Romeo and Juliet, don't you?”

"Quite rough, I think. Somehow someone kills someone because of love. "

Heahmund opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again and leaned over the table. Ivar could smell that he had to have a great aftershave because it was very pleasant and easy to smell. Or maybe it was perfume, or even his skin. He looked up and met Heamund’s clear eyes.

“Romeo is from the Montague family and Juliet is a Capulet. The two families have been hostile for ages, and yet Romeo and Juliet fall deeply in love with each other. Their love must remain secret - which is why they often meet secretly at night. To put it briefly in three words."

"Like today's clans, only with this stupid language."

"Generally, yes. But you shouldn't underestimate this work, it's the most famous love story in the world.”

"The most famous love story in the world ... and this should bring me my degree? What should I do with it?” Ivar grumbled; he was still looking at Heahmund, who couldn't hide his amused look.

"You are not stupid, Ivar, you know exactly what to do with it. Read, interpret and thus write a good grade."

"I don't think much of interpretations."

Heahmund sighed and leaned back in the chair; the smell of his presence faded a little, and Ivar swallowed slightly. He was warm even though it was raining today.

"But you won't get around it. So, I want you to read the first two acts by tomorrow and write me an interpretation. At least two pages long. "

"Two pages? Really?! You’re a drover! "

"Ivar, that's a lot less than you should have done in school! I think I'm still fairly gracious since you're constantly questioning everything and being very, very rebellious.” Heahmund raised his eyebrows as he said that, so Ivar assumed it wasn't meant to be serious. He leaned back in the chair with a sigh and wiped his thick dark hair.

"I think we'll continue tomorrow," Heahmund said, getting up; when he was at Ivar’s height, Ivar cleared his throat.

"Heahmund, a very discreet question ... do you always get the women around?" he grinned; "…with these poems and all the drivel? You look like you like it. "

Heahmund looked down at Ivar; his gaze was difficult to understand at first, but then he put on a slight smile and leaned his lower back against the table.

He was closer to Ivar than usual. Ivar could smell him again and he also felt the warmth that seemed to emanate from Heahmund’s body; and he liked it. He liked this tall man very much, even though he had only spent a few hours with him. Of course, it still didn't suit him that he was forced to be teached - but Heahmund was different. An educated man.

Ivar countered his gaze and didn't dodge, even though Heahmund had looked at the floor with a grin.

“You know Ivar, there are things called _privacy_ and _things that 18-year-olds don't necessarily need to know_. Especially not from their teacher. "

"You are from the Church, but I think you are a wild one with the women."

"Ivar!"

Ivar laughed softly; he grinned broadly. He returned Heahmund’s look, which looked amused and curious, even if the bishop once again hid it under his usual mask of stuffiness.

"What? You're not 50 yet, are you? "

"No, I'm 38, and yet there are things that don't need to concern you. Sometimes you are really outrageous. "

"I am curious and ask. You should always do that with everything, I think. I mean, every scientist asks if he doesn't know an answer. "

They both looked at each other and Ivar could feel it - the excited tingling between them, the tension. Something was in the air, and from Heahmund’s grin he knew he felt it too. He just fought it off with kindness. Or was Ivar wrong?

Heahmund took a deep breath, then put his hands on the table and grinned slightly. His voice was pleasantly soft.

"I am a man of God, Ivar, and I would never question that. I was married once, a long time ago. But I probably looked for this fire in the prayers and books. That doesn't mean that I completely avoid people, but you know - blind love happens best at night. There are things that not everyone has to know. And that's all I say about it. You are still too young and should concentrate on school."

"I'm not too young for such things. Or do you think I don't know that I look good? And stop talking in riddles,” Ivar said. He could see Heahmund's eyebrows raised and for a brief moment something flared in his eyes. Very short, barely visible, but Ivar had seen it anyway. A tingling sensation went over his arm and pulled up to his neck.

Heahmund was silent for a moment, and then he came a little closer to Ivar. He leaned one arm on the back of Ivar’s chair, and bent as close as he dared to the cheeky boy. Ivar smiled slightly; his eyes stung, as did his innermost. It had been a long time since someone had gotten so close to him, and he loved the smell that enveloped him.

Heahmund lowered his voice, but his eyes were still on Ivar.

"Okay, let's say it differently: there are things that have no place between a teacher and a student. So, don't always be so curious."

They looked at each other for a moment, blue eyes on blue eyes, as Heahmund pushed away after a few moments and walked towards the door. Ivar watched him go; he knew Heahmund noticed, and he also knew that he was deliberately not turning around.

If he was not mistaken, his teacher - and the Church's eternal cleric - might even be on paths that Ivar had always preferred.


	3. The Sunlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, the whole thing might be a little longer than expected. I thought I could get by with just a few chapters, but I guess there will be more, haha. :D Thanks so much for your kudos!

With a small sigh, Ivar leaned back in the chair and chewed on the end of the pen; he nibbled around very gently with his pointed canine tooth, his eyes narrowed, and thought hard about the text in front of him.

He had read the first two acts of Romeo and Juliet, and unlike math or chemistry, these things still seemed strange to him. And yet - despite the annoying language and the expressions, Ivar was able to put the contents of the text into one picture in his head. However, that didn't change the fact that he didn't feel like writing at least two pages about the scenes. It was difficult for him to put words on paper; he preferred formulas and numbers.

After a while he put the pen on the paper and started writing but stopped after a while. He picked up the sheet of paper and looked at the words he had written.

_Already in the first act the topic of love is dealt with fundamentally, especially the focus here is on love at first sight. It only takes a few moments when Romeo is immediately drawn to the beautiful Juliet. This is particularly encouraged using adjectives. Her face touched him from the first moment ..._

With a rough snort, Ivar rolled his eyes and clapped his hands over his head - how was he supposed to filter two pages out of this stupid text? He didn't understand everything either, because playing with the words bordered on rape for him. Were there no other subjects that were more important?

He was about to put his pen back on the paper when there was a knock on his door. It took him a moment to murmur a soft "come in" and the door opened. From the steps, he knew it was Hvitserk - he didn't even turn but stared out at the garden that was just outside his window with his blue eyes.

"You're busy, aren't you?" Hvitserk said, amused, and sat down on the desk with Ivar's face in sight; Ivar just looked at him grimly.

"Romeo and Juliet, just disgusting," he grumbled, and Hvitserk chuckled.

“Disgusting, we also had it at school back then. But I didn't think it was that bad, secretly it was nice to read.”

"Because you're too stupid for science, Hvitserk."

Hvitserk bit the apple he was holding and shrugged as he glanced at Ivar’s paper.

"You really don't like writing, do you?"

"I hate it."

"Well, after all, you don't have to go to school but can stay here at home while Mom cares for you like a baby. What is he like?”, grinned Hvitserk and bit the apple again; Ivar looked up.

"Who, the teacher?"

"Of course, who else? I definitely don't mean Romeo."

A slight smile passed over Ivar’s lips, then he folded his arms behind his neck and stretched. "He's okay. He is nice and not quite as stupid as the teachers at our school. But he’s also strict, I should write two whole pages. It annoys me, but I have to do it. "

"Oh, two pages ... be careful that you _actually_ don’t do anything at all," chuckled Hvitserk, and Ivar let out a grunt.

"Shut up, Hvitserk. Don't you have anything to do?"

"I'm already going. Oh by the way - mom wants you to come over right away.”, he said before pushing himself off the table and walking out of the room. As always, he left the door open and Ivar gave a murmur. He sat for another two or three minutes, staring at the half-written sheet of paper that looked warm in the sun; the ink was already dry. Only after another breath did he pull his crutches close to him, carefully stood up and reluctantly went towards the kitchen, where his mother was already waiting for him with a happy face and a thick plate of soup.

It was very warm the next day, and Ivar was wearing black jeans and a gray t-shirt when he dragged himself to the office with his crutches. He knew Heahmund was already there, because until a few minutes ago he had been sitting on the terrace before his mother came to him and told him that it was time for his lessons. When Ivar entered the room, it was bathed in sunlight; the birds chirped outside as the large window opposite the desk was open; Heahmund was already in place.

Ivar couldn't see his expression directly from the incoming sunlight; all he saw was that Heahmund was wearing a black t-shirt and his hair was a bit wilder than usual today. As always, he looked good, and when Ivar sat down in his chair opposite him, Heahmund leaned slightly over the table.

Ivar's breath caught for a moment; Heahmund’s eyes were almost silver in the bright sunlight, and he smiled softly when Ivar was in his final position.

"Actually a much too nice day to study, don't you think? Greetings, Ivar,” he said cheerfully, and Ivar grinned a little.

"I was just out there, too," Ivar replied shortly, and stole another look at Heahmund’s face. Fascinating, in a way. This silver looked wonderful on that face, and before he could look away, Ivar felt an excited tingling sensation run through his veins. It was very gentle, very gentle and soft, and reminded him of the moment when he entered a warm, steamy bath.

“Next time we may be able to learn outside. So, I think you have something for me?” Heahmund said and nodded at the two sheets of paper that Ivar had put on the table.

"Oh yeah. Um, I'm honest: it was really hard for me. I can't do this very well, this ... writing. These words are… I'm more of a type for formulas.”, Ivar murmured and pushed the sheets towards Heahmund; when he received them, their fingers touched briefly.

"I'll read it through. I thought in the meantime you will get to know another work, but this time from Schiller.”

"Please not."

Heahmund grinned slightly, and yet he pushed to Ivar a very small, thin book; Ivar grabbed it and looked at the title as Heahmund looked for his red pencil.

"You just read it and then we'll talk about it. OK?"

"All right," Ivar grumbled, opening the first pages while Heahmund started reading Ivar’s essay. It was less than half an hour that Ivar was deeply immersed in the book when Heahmund cleared his throat.

"You see all of this very vividly, don't you?" He said with a deep undertone that was mild; Ivar really liked Heahmund’s deep voice anyway. He looked up and met Heahmund’s look, which felt very warm. Tingling, somehow.

"I just see it that way. I don't really find anything nice about it."

"You don’t? Look, Ivar. You are highly intelligent; I can tell that from the way you write. Let me show you something, wait."

Heahmund pushed back the chair and comprised it on the back. With a sure movement he carried it to the other side of the table and sat next to Ivar. Ivar immediately noticed the veins on his arms when he put the chair back down - the man had to have a lot of strength, even if he didn't look clunky. Ivar's eyes followed Heahmund until he sat down next to him, and then the gazes of the two met. Heahmund was silent for a moment; then he slid a little closer to Ivar and placed the corrected sheet in front of both.

Ivar breathed in softly and immediately picked up a wonderful smell coming from Heahmund; it reminded him of a lukewarm night around a campfire. He swallowed gently, but then fixed his eyes on the sheet.

"Look, you describe everything correctly and have also drawn the right conclusions when interpreting it. Everything is correct, but still ... you describe everything so flat and scientific. From a scientist's perspective. For example, here, the moment Romeo sees Juliet for the first time, you describe it ... _They looked at each other and knew that it was love at first sight. From a purely physical point of view, no processes took place here, but their feelings made them understand that they found each other attractive_. You describe it like a chemical process.” Heahmund explained; Ivar had started to grin and looked up to meet Heamund.

"It's a chemical process, isn't it? Endorphins are released from the brain...”, he said amused, and he almost laughed when Heahmund looked at him almost perplexed. Up close, the eyes looked almost hypnotic, and the physical closeness clearly made Ivar feel something.

"It's a ... measurable effect, yes, but this is about love. For explosive, perfect love, and that at first sight. You know it when you fall in love, and that's exactly what this is about."

"Yes, but it's still an interpretation, isn't it? How would you write it if you didn't like my scientific view?"

For a moment Heahmund eyed Ivar with amusement, and Ivar bit his lip briefly so as not to smirk. Heahmund’s eyes focused briefly on the sheet, then looked back at Ivar.

“And they felt it immediately, it was love at first sight. The whole beauty of Juliet was reflected in Romeo's eyes, and it's like a tingling sensation…” Heahmund said quietly; Ivar had to swallow. He felt hot and cold at the same time, and he became more and more aware of the closeness between them. He could feel it, the attraction between the two. The tingling and tension.

That Heahmund had to feel it too, Ivar noticed when he looked away briefly and gazed at Heahmund’s forearm; there he could see goose bumps. The hot feeling inside increased and Ivar looked up again to look at Heahmund; he opened his full lips slightly, then continued to listen to Heahmund.

"... like a storm, like fireworks, when they discover the incredible passion that no one can explain ..." Heahmund’s voice softened, and Ivar unconsciously noticed that they were getting closer.

"Fireworks are also a chemical process ..." Ivar added quietly, and he saw Heahmund smile and shake his head slightly.

"A stubborn, that's what you are ..."

Ivar smiled gently and bit his lip again; Heahmund stared at Ivar’s lips, and then Ivar suddenly knew. At once. He could feel it, see it, taste it in the lukewarm summer air, and when Heahmund was about to look away, Ivar’s hands rose by themselves and encircled Heahmund’s face.

"Ivar, don‘t ..."

But Ivar didn't listen; with a small sigh he leaned closer, pulled Heahmund’s face a little nearer and pressed his lips lightly on his.

It was an innocent, soft kiss, no more than a breath of air; and yet Ivar's heart beat up to his neck. He became so warm and yet so cold again within milliseconds that he couldn't describe this strange feeling in any other way. His stomach was sore, and he pulled back a little, looking for Heahmund’s gaze.

The silver eyes were full of fire, as clear and shiny as the sun outside; Ivar hesitated for a moment, and his hands slipped slowly from Heahmund’s face when Heahmund suddenly pulled Ivar gently on the shirt collar and kissed him a second time, this time more researching and urgently.

It was an incredibly exciting feeling that Ivar’s body dashed - he felt every nerve tingle, felt adrenaline and joy and all the beautiful things that a kiss contained - he hadn’t been kissed in ages. And so he enjoyed it all the more when Heahmund kissed him a third time; Ivar’s hands clasped Heahmund’s, holding them as they melted together.

The kisses grew longer and more intense, until a distant laugh tore the two apart; hands still on Ivar’s collar, Heahmund stared at the window; when the laugh that had surely come from Ivar’s brothers disappeared, Heahmund turned back to Ivar.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, and he got up while Ivar just looked at him.

"What are you sorry for?"

"This right here. This shouldn't have happened.” Heahmund murmured; he had turned pale, looked nervous, and Ivar's eyebrows furrowed.

"It was just a kiss, what's wrong about it?" he snapped, but Heahmund shook his head; he packed up his things.

"It wasn't just a kiss, Ivar. And this should never happen again, did you understand me?” Heahmund’s voice had grown rougher and Ivar raised his eyebrows. He felt disappointment and anger.

"Why not? Didn’t you like it?"

"Ivar, god damn, I'm your teacher and I'm 20 years older! Sum it up, it doesn't work out. It's something really…”, Heahmund said and broke off; when he had packed his things, he stopped short next to Ivar.

"Please read on, the next two acts. And next time, please make your interpretation less abstract."

Ivar's mouth opened and closed; when Heahmund moved to the door, he snorted: "Thanks, really great such a finish. Just go."

But Heahmund didn't stop; he went out and closed the door behind him, leaving Ivar confused and slightly hurt. He could still feel the kiss on his lips, still the tingling sensation on his skin and the excitement in his body that had developed during the kisses. Of course, he knew what Heahmund meant.

And yet, just for a moment, he had had the feeling that the world had stopped and that, for once, what had happened could not be explained.

Just like the connection between Romeo and Juliet.


	4. The Heat

Heahmund didn't come the next day.

Ivar found out from his mother when they were all having lunch the next day, all except his father, Ubbe and Bjorn, who were working.

Ivar poked around in his food with the corners of his mouth slightly pulled down, but did not eat much after hearing the news. Dissatisfaction spread through him, and suddenly it didn't taste good either. He was feeling sick.

"Are you no longer hungry, Ivar?" His mother said softly, but Ivar just shrugged.

"How can you only pull a face like that when you have a day off again? Mom, why does he always get everything extra? Why couldn't we all squat at home?” spat Sigurd, who had already emptied his plate; Ivar looked up and glared at his brother.

"Shut up, you bastard."

"Ivar! Sigurd! It‘s enough! You two always argue! Sometimes I'm really tired of you!” Aslaug rarely raised her voice, but this time she did; the two brothers both looked at each other before everyone turned back to their plate.

"I'm done, I'm not hungry anymore," Sigurd let out after a while, pushed the plate away and disappeared, as did Hvitserk. Only Ivar stayed seated, still poking around in his food while his mother looked at him.

"What happened?" she asked, and Ivar sighed.

"Nothing, Mom. Just a bad day and my legs hurt."

"You should go for a walk again today, that would be nice! After all, the weather is so good. And you‘re sure that nothing is bothering you?

Ivar thought about this for a moment. He knew that his mother was the only one who knew about his love for men; his father would most likely throw him out upright and disown him if he ever found out. Sometimes Ivar wondered if, after all, his mother guessed or knew more than she might admit - she had always defended him, even when he stole the car and caused the terrible accident. Still - to tell her that he had kissed his teacher, who was also a good friend of his father, he dared not tell her.

Not even in his worst dreams.

So he just shook his head and put on a slight crooked smile as he slowly pushed his chair back.

Aslaug eyed him in silence for a while, then nodded in agreement. "If you need anything, let me know."

Ivar was sitting on another essay all afternoon, but his head didn't really work. His thoughts kept circling around the kiss yesterday, making him feel the excitement again and again, and he felt like an idiot that he had just been copied out. He had never been someone others could push around! Certainly not by a damned cleric and chronic churchgoer. _He stays at home? Well, I’ll do it my way._

The thought had not yet fully matured into a plan when Ivar was already on the way to the living room. His mother sat on the sofa and watched her tv show, when Ivar cleared his throat slightly.

"Mom, tell me ... where does Heahmund actually live? I just want to put my tasks in the mailbox for him, and that's how I also go a bit outside. Like go for a walk, you know? Didn't you say he lives nearby?"

"But sure darling, he lives on Rose Lane. A large, gray house, very modern. It should be number 56."

"I'll be back for dinner!" Ivar said, grinning slightly; he wouldn't be treated like that.

_No way._

__

The way to Heahmund’s house was exceptionally not a problem for Ivar. The weather was nice and luckily, he was wearing a light cotton shirt that felt particularly airy when the wind came up. As he put one foot in front of the other, he came up with a plan; he definitely had to throw something at his head and then walk the same way out Heahmund did yesterday. Sure, he was his teacher - but he hadn't set a good example.

When he reached Heahmund’s house, his breath caught for a moment.

He had expected a lot, but not guaranteed that. It was a beautiful, modern, and fairly large house for someone who lived alone; olive trees and fresh lavender bustled in the driveway, and there was a beautifully paved driveway. Black wooden cheeks gave the property the right flair, and there were so many windows that the house looked almost glassy.

He snorted slightly - he should have guessed it, after all, Heahmund had also appeared in a leather jacket and was anything but the typical bishop.

Still, Ivar was not impressed by it. He gripped the notes he held in his fist and braced himself up the small steps to the front door, which was also made of black, polished wood.

The doorbell was black, and there was written _Bishop H. Meyer_ on it in gold letters. Ivar hesitated for a moment, but then he pressed the bell button with his index finger.

It took a moment for the door to open; but then an extremely perplexed Heahmund stood in front of him, in a white shirt and dark jeans.

"Ivar - what ...?"

"I brought my tasks over when you can't keep your obligations as a teacher -"

"Let me explain that first ..."

"Not at all! I don't want to get any stupid rejections from you, who do you think you are -“, snapped Ivar, but Heahmund just shook his head and grabbed Ivar’s wrist to pull him gently into the house.

"You don't have to be at the door like that, I don't want the neighbors to notice this. You know very well that I’m a member of the Church."

Ivar pulled his wrist free as best he could with the crutches and put on his grimmest face. His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked at Heahmund angry; he had leaned against a wall and raised an eyebrow, almost as if the whole thing was amusing him.

"You ... you think I'm just some little boy that can be treated like that, right? Are you kidding me?! I’m not like that at all! I should probably tell my father about what you did to me…” Ivar tried to sound evil, but the blue eyes got him off track. Heahmund looked at him intently and listened, and when Ivar had finished scolding, he cleared his throat.

“I cannot come today because I am going to represent Father Johannes at the confessions today. I also consider the job serious; you don't need to tell me that. What has happened between us is also your fault, by the way, and I don't think you would ever tell your father,” Heahmund said, and Ivar let out an amused grunt.

"You think I’m not brave enough to do it?"

"I think that you are smart enough to assess the consequences."

Anger rose in Ivar and he felt his cheeks turn dark red to his anger. He hadn't known that Heahmund hadn't come because of that - but of course he wouldn't admit that now.

In order not to meet Heahmund’s blue eyes, Ivar looked at the notes in his hand. He put it down on the beautifully polished wooden table that was in the hall and looked around.

Heahmund liked art, it was clearly to notice. There were various pictures on the stairs and there were small objects or collectibles everywhere. Heahmund followed Ivar’s gaze, then smiled.

"We just forget the whole thing, okay?" He murmured, and Ivar nodded silently, automatically walking into the adjoining room, which appeared to be a living room. It was comfortably furnished, with a large sofa and lots of pillows, warm lamps and a huge TV. There was a large bookshelf there too, and that's where Ivar was drawn to.

He put his crutches on the wall, because he could stand quite well now without them; then he ran his fingers over the back of the books and stopped at one title.

"Steven Hawking!" he said; he took out the book, feeling the close proximity of Heahmund’s behind him. He smelled fantastic, so light and yet masculine. Ivar felt dizzy.

"Yes, I’ve read it all the time at the university. His variations ..."

"... his variations over time are fantastic, unique! He changed the whole world of physics with his essay on the expansion of the universe…” Ivar interrupted him, and when he looked up, he saw Heahmund standing relatively close to him and looking at him. He smiled.

"You will become a good scientist one day."

"At least I don't work for the church," countered Ivar as cheekily as he dared; his eyes met Heahmund's and they looked at each other for a moment. Then after a while Heahmund said softly:

"It was a very nice kiss. But you know it doesn't work out."

Ivar put on a big grin and put the book away; he turned his whole body to Heahmund and met the bishop's eyes with fire.

Something tingled under his skin when he saw Heahmund swallow.

"You are afraid."

"I'm not afraid, I only know that it would be dangerous."

"Scaredy cat!"

"Ivar, don't be a fool. You know exactly that it’s not possible and that’s my last word about it."

Ivar eyed Heahmund for a moment, then gently bit his lower lip and leaned even closer to Heahmund, so close that he completely immersed in his smell.

"I think I accept the last word. I generally don't start with losers anyway.” And with these words, Ivar turned around, took his crutches and swung towards the door; just as he was holding the doorknob in his hand, rapid footsteps appeared in the hallway and his hand was roughly pulled away from the door.

With a firm grip, Heahmund grabbed Ivar by the upper arms and turned him around; the crutches fell to the floor, and Ivar felt heat boil inside him, hotter than any of his most erotic fantasies. He let out a gasp as Heahmund leaned down and pulled him so close that they breathed the other's air.

"WHAT did you just say, my little friend?" Heahmund’s voice was dark, rough and wild, and Ivar loved it. It was boiling in his veins and he looked at Heahmund defiantly, he wanted more of this fire, more of this rudeness ...

"I said that I don't do anything with losers anyway ..." Ivar hissed, but in the next second he found his back against the wall and felt the hot pressure of Heahmund’s lips on his.

He gasped heavily when Heahmund gave him a short break to breath; in these brief seconds they stared at each other, appraising, judging, before stumbling against each other again with the same intensity and kissing roughly and deeply.

Ivar wrapped his arms tightly around Heahmund, clutching his shoulders and neck to get as much support as possible; he felt Heahmund’s hot body press against his, and he loved and idolized every kiss, every bite he received. He returned every touch, countered every bite harder, and grew weak and excited under the breathtaking proximity of this great man.

A light gasp escaped Heahmund as he skillfully embraced Ivar’s shirt and pulled it over his head; he glanced at the flawless skin, and Ivar fell in love with that look in just a few seconds. With a hectic movement, Heahmund’s hand explored Ivar’s chest before Ivar roughly pulled him back, kissed him, wanted more.

"Bedroom," Ivar pressed out between two kisses, and he felt Heahmund stiffen; nevertheless he did not lose a second and in the next moment lifted the stunned Ivar into his arms so quickly that he only really realized what was happening when he was carried up the stairs with quick steps.

He knew why - but that didn't bother him. It went faster this way and Ivar really couldn't wait anymore. His last sex had been too long ago, he had had to wait too long for this moment. He hadn't been in bed with such a man in ages, and he was tired of jerking himself off at night.

They kissed again and again during climbing up the stairs; Ivar gripped Heahmund’s neck tightly, loosened his lips only to bite his neck.

The next thing he felt was that his back was pressed onto a soft and large bed. A sigh slipped away - he stroked Heahmund’s hair roughly as the bishop had just bent down to kiss every inch of Ivar’s chest and tease it with his tongue.

"You're a damn bastard..." he said, and Ivar laughed softly. He arched his back slightly when Heahmund came close to his jeans waistband and gripped the man's hair tighter.

"Don't talk so much, you'd better take your shirt off."

Heahmund raised his head and smiled slightly; his grin said all and with a quick movement he took off his shirt. Ivar looked at him - he looked pretty damn good. His chest was trained, and, to Ivar’s surprise, there were some pretty bad scars on the skin. He stroked it, especially over a particularly large and arched one, and bit his lip.

"Where's this one from? Looks like it came from a knife ..."

"It is, though. I've been wearing it forever…” Heahmund whispered; he had now leaned over Ivar and was gently biting his earlobe, and Ivar let out a low, comforting gasp.

He felt the pressure of Heahmund’s cock even through the jeans; his own erection narrowed him no less, and with a flowing movement he reached between the two and began to open Heahmund’s belt as the bishop stiffened above him.

"Are you sure ...?" he said softly and Ivar looked at him.

"I'm no longer 12, Heahmund. And not a virgin either. I want you."

_Goosebumps_. Goosebumps ran down Heahmund’s skin and Ivar enjoyed the effect he had on the far older man. He fiddled with the belt, opened it and reached into his pants with a sure movement, grasping Heahmund’s penis.

Heahmund let out a deep groan; small veins appeared on his forearms as he supported himself over Ivar; his blue eyes were on Ivar’s face, and Ivar looked back at him blazing.

"I want you to fuck me, Heahmund, here and now," he said, and Heahmund's mouth opened; he leaned down to Ivar, kissed the younger man roughly and breathlessly; the movements of Ivar’s hand made his cock throb.

"I don't have any lube here ..." Heahmund whispered between two kisses; but Ivar grinned slightly.

He pushed Heahmund up briefly and reached into his back pocket, from which he pulled a condom. He actually always had some with him - for situations like these, which unfortunately were very rare. He winked at the startled Heahmund and tore the condom open with his teeth; then he nodded to Heahmund.

"Take your clothes off, I'll do this. Just watch that your cock is ready in a moment."

Heahmund had to grin; he watched Ivar fascinated as he rubbed his fingers on the condom's lubricant and then handed the condom to Heahmund. "Don't worry, Ivar…. I've been keen on you from the first moment. "

Ivar laughed slightly; while Heahmund pulled on the condom, he used the lubricant on his fingers to prepare himself after removing his clothes too; he pushed two fingers inside him to stretch himself a little and took in benevolently that Heahmund let out a moan.

"Fuck, Ivar, you're incredible ... The devil in person. Naughty boy."

Ivar didn't answer; he wanted Heahmund so fiery, so demanding, that he hurried. He liked a little more pain anyway, so it wasn't long before he removed his fingers. Heahmund was back on him within milliseconds; their naked bodies seemed to be in perfect symbiosis, and for a moment they just pressed their bare skin together and caressed each other as they looked at each other.

"Is it true ...?" Ivar whispered, while Heahmund lightly ran a hand over his cheek - "... at first glance?"

"Oh yeah. Like Romeo when he saw Juliet ..."

Ivar could not describe his feelings at that moment, but it did something tingling in him; his eyes shone and he pulled Heahmund into a firm, hungry kiss; Skin on skin and so close to Heahmund’s cock, Ivar couldn’t hide his excitement and he didn’t want to wait.

"Do it," he whispered, and in the same second, with a pleasant moan, he felt Heahmund’s cock pushing between his legs. The first intrusion hurt, especially because he hadn't had sex for ages; since Heahmund was also extremely well equipped, Ivar felt every millimeter Heahmund entered, and he hissed softly when the cock was completely inside him.

Heahmund stayed like this for a while - he kissed Ivar tightly, stroked him and bit his neck gently when Ivar stirred slightly.

"Move," he breathed, and the next second he felt the pain come up again. But the burning would go away, he knew it. Heahmund, on the other hand, could hardly control himself, Ivar felt and saw it exactly; the muscles were tense, and he was sweating - and a rough tremor went through his body.

"Yes, keep it up ..." Ivar gasped, and Heahmund let out a snort. The movements became more and more flowing, and the pain soon turned into a wonderful, pleasant feeling that Ivar’s nerves tingled from head to toe. With a gasp, he grabbed Heahmund’s neck and sighed deeply; he pressed tightly against the hot body over him, went as far as he could with the rhythm.

In and out, again and again, firmer, harder - _deeper_.

The tremor of Heahmund’s body excited him more than any sex before it, and the air between them was still burning; the fire between them only became stronger through the connection of the bodies, and Ivar’s innards were already contracting.

"Harder, Heahmund, please ..." he gasped, groaning harsh, and Heahmund thrusted harder; In the meantime, he supported himself with both arms and kept penetrating Ivar, only bending down now and then to kiss the younger one.

"You steal my mind ..."

Ivar closed his eyes, let these words take effect from his lover; his fingers tightened on Heahmund’s back and he started to shake.

When suddenly a warm hand closed around his hard cock and moved precisely and hard to the rhythm, Ivar arched his back and threw his head back wildly. He shook, he burned in desire, and he didn't want to wait -

"I'll be cuming," he whimpered, breathless.

One final push and Ivar lost control of his body. His muscles started to twitch and he felt the spreading wetness of his orgasm on his own stomach; it was a violent feeling that robbed him of any thoughts. It wiped out every other feeling, and he only felt the hard-bobbing waves of the feeling of his orgasm. He didn't even notice Heahmund cuming aswell and biting his clavicle so hard that it started to bleed softly; all of this was lost in his numb orgasm, which it took him a long time to come back down.

Heahmund also needed a long time to come back to his senses; he had collapsed on Ivar after his climax and breathed as hard as he did, and their hearts beat so hard that they could feel it under each other’s chest.

Sweaty but happy, and Ivar smiled when he was able to breathe again.

Heahmund lifted his head slightly and gave Ivar a breathless kiss on the forehead; then he fixed his eyes on Ivar.

"A word to someone and you’re done," he murmured, and Ivar grinned.

"I think I have better cards than you. I'm the poor, far too young guy who was shamelessly fucked from the church again ..."

"Shh!" Heahmund let out and bit Ivar lightly; Ivar laughed.

They looked at each other, still out of breath, and Heahmund gently stroked Ivar's cheek.

"Why did this happen?"

"I don’t know…"

Heahmund parted from Ivar after a while, and Ivar looked around the room for the first time. It was stylish and beautifully decorated, but what caught his eye first was a large, jeweled sword that hung on the wall and looked precious.

"What’s that sword?"

Heahmund turned and looked at the sword; he smiled slightly.

"An ancient sword, it once belonged to a bishop who was involved in the wars with Scandinavia."

"Cool."

They talked about the sword for a while, until Ivar finally realized that it was damn late; he got dressed hastily and refused to let Heahmund drive him; the latter himself had enough problems, for he had let the confessional hours go for good or bad.

When Ivar came home nearly two hours too late that night, his father hit him hard in the face because his mother had been terribly worried about him and he could not explain why he was that late at home.


	5. The Nibelungen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, many of you asked me to update this story, and I was soooo long away from this, I needed to re-read first. :D But I really hope you like the new chapter! :) It turned out a bit more cheeky and fluffy as I wanted it to be, but well... :D   
> I never prewrite anything, that's why it always takes so long. <3  
> Thank you so much for your love! <3

Although Ivar could still feel the violent slap on his face from his father up to his fingertips, even after he was already in bed, he could not think of anything other than what had happened between him and Heahmund.

In a way, it was almost a perverted pleasure that he'd actually been in bed with the much older man - he'd actually made it. Ivar had never been shy and was far from being innocent. He had always had a thing for men older than him; with a slight grin, Ivar remembered a soccer player who had fucked him in the shower once after training. Ivar had been 15 back then.

But this here with Heahmund was something different. Heahmund was not like most men - Ivar was sure that he could do a lot more than just being polite, he had already noticed it from the way Heahmund had treated him in bed. _This man had deep secrets._

Ivar turned around to face the window with a slight smile on his lips. He loved it when the window wasn't darkened with curtains at night, so that the moon could shine in. And this time it was like that too; the white, faint light of the moon shone gently on the floor and let a narrow strip fall on Ivar’s carpet, which was as wide as the curtain that let it through. In a very special way, Ivar was always calmed by the moonlight, and he couldn't remember ever going to bed early - he was a night owl.

Before Ivar closed his eyes with a smile, immersed in the scent of fresh laundry, he thought of the way his fingertips had touched Heahmund’s upper body; what kind of scars those were? Maybe the damn bishop was cooler than he always acted.

The next morning Ivar felt his whole body with every movement he made, and especially one extremely sensitive area, but he was in a good mood and hobbled over to the breakfast table with a big grin.

Since it was Friday, Bjorn and Ubbe were still there; they usually started later on Fridays, and Hvitserk was also sitting at the table with a slightly twisted face. As Ivar pulled past him, he ruffled his wild hair for a moment.

"It's time for a haircut again, isn't it, Hviti?" Ivar grunted, amused, and got an incredibly hateful look from Hvitserk, who continued to spoon his cornflakes without a word. When Ivar sat down, his mother also handed him a bowl.

"How can you be in such a good mood in the morning..." Ubbe grumbled; he had withdrawn behind the newspaper and only gave a brief glimpse of his disheveled head; Bjorn looked at Ivar with a raised eyebrow.

“Have you taken some cocaine or what the fuck is wrong with you? You're never in such a good mood in the morning", Björn murmured; Ivar raised his eyebrows and was about to say something less nice when his mother interrupted them.

"How long is Heahmund staying today, Ivar?" she asked; Ivar tried not to show something at all from his inner mood and just shrugged his shoulders in boredom, even though he was burning inside.

"I don’t know. I don't care either, today is Friday! That means he’ll only stays until noon anyway."

A slight grunt came from behind the newspaper; Ubbe stuck his head out at the side and nodded to Ivar. “Will you ever be useful at some point in life? Neither of us was in school for that long."

"Because you idiots don't graduate from high school either, because you're too stupid," Ivar replied; he ate a spoonful of corn flakes and avoided the newspaper Ubbe was slapping at him with.

"Who's that guy anyway?" Bjorn grumbled; he looked at his mother, and Ivar also fixed his blue eyes on his mother. Actually, he didn't even know how much Heahmund was friends with his father - he had been far too distracted by his damn beautiful eyes. And this great body...

Ivar bit his lip gently, forcing himself to listen to his mother.

“He did certain jobs for your father once. But they have known each other for a long time. I don't know exactly either, I'm glad he teaches Ivar. He is so well versed in many subjects!"

"If I'm paid so well to teach the little shit something, I'll do it too!" Bjorn replied; Aslaug clapped him gently on the back of the head, while Björn dodged it with a laugh.

And Ivar tried to keep the expression on his face as normal as possible. Sure, it bothered him more than anything that his brothers wanted to provoke him again - but today he wasn't particularly upset about it. Not even when Hvitserk glared at him from the other side of the table, and Ivar only gave him a cheeky wink that was lost in the commotion when Bjorn and Ubbe got up to go to work.

Before he went down to the room where he always had his lessons with Heahmund, Ivar put on his light, white cotton t-shirt again; somehow, he thought that it had brought him luck yesterday, and he also put on a little bit of the expensive perfume, which he only rarely wore and mostly on special occasions.

As he walked out of the bathroom, he hissed at himself for not falling in love with the bishop too quickly. Ivar wasn't really the type for relationships, and certainly not with his Christian teacher.

The room was wonderfully cool when he entered. The fresh morning air had flooded the entire room; Ivar just caught a glimpse of Heahmund opening the window wide. The fresh, morning summer air was so good that Ivar sucked a big gulp of it into his lungs. Mixed with the scent of Heahmund, it was perfect, and somehow the back of his neck tingled when Heahmund turned to him with a smile.

Today he was wearing a dark blue shirt that went incredibly well with his dark hair. Ivar paused for a moment; he was such a beautiful sight, this man. When Ivar saw that the leather jacket was hanging over the back of Heahmund’s chair again, a warm feeling ran through his body. Heahmund must have modeled for the damn church newspaper once, and all the grannies within ten miles had passed out when they unsuspectingly fetched the Sunday paper from the mailbox. How not, with these eyes...

"Good morning, Ivar," Heahmund said softly; his deep voice was like honey to Ivar’s ears, and with a slight grin Ivar dragged himself over to his chair across from Heahmund and sat down.

"Hi." he said; he hadn't really wanted to sound so soft, but the damned thought of yesterday just wouldn't let go of him, now that he was sitting across from Heahmund again.

“Actually, it's a summer's day that is far too beautiful to learn, but it's no use. We'll both have to go through that."

Ivar glanced over his shoulder behind him; the door was locked and there was no sound anywhere that suggested his brothers were listening. With a slight bite on the lower lip and a sly smile, Ivar turned back to Heahmund. He raised an eyebrow when Ivar’s gaze met him.

"What?" he asked, and Ivar nodded slightly at him.

"The door is closed," he replied softly, sliding a little closer. He leaned slightly over the table and tried to grab Heahmund’s arm, but Heahmund just grinned and pulled it away slightly.

“Oh, _the door is closed_ , so that's it. You don't seriously believe that we're going to skip lessons now, do you?"

Ivar’s mouth opened slightly; his eyebrows drew together, and he gave Heahmund a puzzled look.

"You don't mean it seriously now, don’t dare to take out a fucking bo... -" he grumbled, and Heahmund actually took out a small, blue book that was about as thin as Schiller's. Heahmund put it gently on the table; his bright eyes glared at Ivar in amusement, but Ivar only crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his back against the back of his chair in annoyance.

“You are... Which man enjoys teaching so much? Oh my God Heahmund, you're really uncool.", Ivar snarled; Heahmund gave an amused laugh.

“Come on, we're not here for fun. Today a very wonderful book is on the agenda, namely “The Nibelungen”. It's an ancient book, or rather the saga is ancient... It is often read in class and was the subject of an exam the year before last. It may well be the turn of this time."

"The what...?", Ivar grumbled offended and propped his elbows on the table; he hadn't touched the book yet and just eyed it suspiciously, even though Heahmund had pushed it right in front of his nose.

"The Nibelungen. You will like it, there are dragons in it. And a knight. And a virgin.", Heahmund said and winked at him; and although Ivar didn't want to, a slight grin slipped into the corner of his mouth, if only slightly.

“You're not quite up to date in your church either, old man, are you? Dragons in my age are out."

“Not wanting to learn as well. Come on, start. In the meantime, I am correcting your essay from yesterday, because yesterday we really didn't get around to it."

Ivar bit back a cheeky grin; he wanted to get up and show Heahmund what he thought of this saying, but the Christian teacher was incorrigible. So, he actually took out Ivar’s essay from yesterday and stubbornly began to correct it, while Ivar’s thoughts and looks drifted back to him.

"Heahmund, I googled." Ivar muttered after a quarter of an hour; Heahmund raised his eyebrows, but not his eyes, as he corrected the page.

"What, for the text you are supposed to read now?" he replied.

Ivar laughed softly. “No, according to your profession, bishop. How can it be that they are all so much older than you?"

Heahmund did not answer immediately; he underlined something in red, then he said softly: “Maybe it's in the book in front of you. And now be quiet and read."

Ivar bit his full lower lip again and grinned slightly; he had his hands folded slightly on the table and was still looking at Heahmund. A light breeze came through the open window and brought a little breeze of Heahmund’s lovely scent over; Ivar got goose bumps.

"Admit it, you're a nerd, aren't you?"

And finally, Heahmund looked up too; the translucent sun made his eyes look almost silver again, like the day they had kissed for the first time. He stared at Ivar; Ivar couldn't help but laugh.

“Very funny, Ivar. Read the book now, or you will get 5 pages for homework instead of 3."

"3? You are terrible. A real slave driver.”, Ivar replied; he still had to laugh slightly, but turned back to the book when Heahmund gave him a stern look. Ivar found it hard to concentrate, but when he had been reading for three quarters of an hour, Heahmund stirred and pushed his essay over to Ivar.

"What, don't you come over and explain it to me?" Ivar poked at him, but Heahmund just rolled his eyes, even if he had to smile a little.

“You wrote it better this time, not as vividly and flatly as in your first remarks. Still - one can tell that you really are that type of scientist. You have to pay attention to your language. For example, instead of writing everything like observations, you could try to describe it like a movie."

"If you say that. But I'm good, right?"

"Quite, yes. If only you weren't always so cheeky, you'd be a good student."

"Hm.", Ivar made; with one smooth movement he closed the book and pushed back his chair.

"Ivar..." Heahmund muttered, rolling his eyes a bit; he got up too and closed the large window from which the wonderful, fresh air had previously emanated; Ivar, on the other hand, pulled himself to Heahmund’s side of the desk with heaving movements and sat on the large tabletop with his legs slightly apart; the polished wood his father had paid dearly was perfect for a quickie.

"Come here now." Ivar snarled softly; as Heahmund approached with a slight roll of his eyes, Ivar’s fingers reached lightly into his shirt on the stomach; fierce goose bumps came over him when he felt the abdominal muscles under the soft fabric.

_Damn sexy bishop._

And then Heahmund actually stood in front of him, his hips between Ivar’s legs and his arms to the left and right of Ivar’s body; his blue eyes shimmered suspiciously, and Ivar pulled Heahmund’s neck with a gentle movement and pulled the tall, handsome man into a soft, breathless kiss.

It was as intense as the first time; all the nerves in Ivar’s body shimmered wildly, and his body got hot and cold at the same time. A soft shiver of pleasure ran through his lap as Heahmund leaned closer against him and deepened the kiss with a passionate movement.

After a fourth kiss, Heahmund paused; Ivar let out a soft gasp, and his nostrils twitched slightly from the intoxicating scent that enchanted him.

“Not here, Ivar. Not in your parents' house.”, Heahmund mumbled gently against Ivar’s lower lip; Ivar let out a quick breath, and his fingers gripped Heahmund’s neck tighter. He could clearly feel the goosebumps that every millimeter of his skin caused there.

"Come on, that's exciting," Ivar whispered softly; he bit Heahmund’s lower lip gently, tugging it lightly with his sharp canine until Heahmund let out a slight moan and kissed Ivar again, this time harder; Ivar was just shooting fire in the loin and he could already feel himself getting hard.

_God, this man drove him crazy._

From far away the clatter of dishes came through to them; far down from the kitchen, and Ivar didn't care for a second, but Heahmund stiffened and broke away from the deep kiss.

“Exciting, but too dangerous. If your father or mother catch us… We can't do this, Ivar. And you know that, too."

Ivar opened his lips slightly when Heahmund uttered these words against his mouth; he wanted to steal another kiss, but Heahmund lifted his head slightly.

"Come on, we can lock the door, nobody will notice!" he wailed; Heahmund’s mouth lifted into a slight grin, especially when Ivar slipped one hand from his neck and slowly slid towards his pants.

"Ivar..."

“I don't care if they see it. Let them watch!”, Ivar whispered sweetly, and his hand slipped skillfully on Heahmund’s belt; he opened the buckle with nimble fingers, and felt benevolently that Heahmund bent his head down to him again and kissed him firmly and breathlessly.

His fingers were about to slide into the waistband of his pants, full of anticipation when Heahmund pushed his hand away with one firm movement and closed his belt just as skillfully as Ivar had opened it.

“No, not here, little one. Come on, hands off.", Heahmund said and pushed Ivar’s fingers away, which tried to move to his pants again.

Ivar grumbled softly; he pressed himself into Heahmund’s arms with a soft movement and closed his arms around Heahmund’s body. The tall man was warm and smelled so good that Ivar closed his eyes for a moment; the sunlight that came in through the window flickered in his mind's eye, and he felt Heahmund hug him just as briefly but deeply.

“If you want, you can come over to me tonight. I can cook something, and we'll watch a good movie.” Heahmund said softly; Ivar had to smile and pushed himself a bit away from Heahmund to look at his face.

"Are you Netflix’n’chillin’ me right now?" he asked, and Heahmund let out an amused laugh.

"Maybe, or do you think classes is a good date?" Heahmund replied; Ivar bit his lower lip softly and looked at Heahmund. Their eyes met for a moment, and then Ivar mumbled softly:

"You said date."

Heahmund cleared his throat; he pushed himself a little away from Ivar and ran a hand quickly through his dark hair.

"You know how I mean that. It's not a - that was just a saying."

"Of course."

"But don't tell your parents that you are with me."

Ivar rolled his eyes and pushed Heahmund away with one push; the bishop laughed lightly.

“Do you think I'm stupid? Really? Hey mom, I'm going to let the church sex offender cook for me. Idiot."

"And you're pretty cheeky for your height," Heahmund replied amused; with one firm movement he grabbed Ivar’s chin between thumb and forefinger and pressed a last, soft kiss on his mouth; when he broke away, Ivar protested softly.

"We could have so nicely fuc-"

"Ivar!"

"It's good.", Ivar smirked; he watched Heahmund throwing his leather jacket on again. He just looked incredibly good with it; for a moment Ivar couldn't believe he'd slept with someone like this just yesterday.

Heahmund gave him a warm look; his eyes were so hypnotic that Ivar had to swallow a little.

"And tonight, you bring me 3 pages on the Nibelungen in return, in your most beautiful writing style."

"Oh, fuck you, you dictator."

Heahmund drew back slightly and clapped Ivar gently on the neck; Ivar had to laugh despite Heahmund’s slightly grim expression.

"I'm still your teacher, so please be a little more respectful."

Heahmund winked at him again, then went out the door; as always, he didn't turn around, although he must have known that Ivar was staring after him.

Only now did Ivar realize how terribly tense he was; he could feel his body still throbbed for more sex; he was so starved that there really wasn't much left, and he would have got down on his knees in front of Heahmund and showed him that he was not just all good at kissing.

The sunlight came in softly, and bathed the entire room in a beautiful, warm light. Ivar closed his eyes for a moment; he could still feel the kisses so clearly on his lips and how the imprint of that kiss mingled gently with the warmth of the sunlight.

What a wonderful summer, despite the crutches.

_He had to be careful not to fucking fall in love._

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The Nibelungen is actually a german saga, google didn't translate it. So fuck it. :D


End file.
